


High on You

by ticklishraspberries



Category: The Goldfinch (2019), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Crushing, Drugs, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21883300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticklishraspberries/pseuds/ticklishraspberries
Summary: Boris thinks that Theo seems happier when he’s high. Theo disagrees. Shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Theodore Decker & Boris Pavlikovsky, Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky
Comments: 6
Kudos: 117





	High on You

They were high, but then again, when  _ weren’t _ they high nowadays?

Boris was sprawled out on Theo’s bed, a cigarette bobbing between his lips, his brown eyes tracing every crack and line on the ceiling above, while Theo laid beside him, on his belly rather than his back, relishing in the sight of his friend’s chest rising and falling.

They would often sit in silence together, because there wasn’t really a need for words when you were tripping. But as the effects started to fade, Boris turned his head to look at Theo, the cigarette still lit and dangling dangerously close to the bedsheets, tiny amounts of ash spilling onto them.

“So, Potter, you are feeling good?”

Theo shrugged. “It’s starting to wear off, I think. But I don’t feel bad necessarily, just...somewhere in between, you know?”

Boris nodded. “Unfortunately, girl from class could only give me so much. Otherwise, I would offer you more, but I am afraid we are out.”

“No worries, man. We blew through this batch quick.”

Frowning, Boris sat up slightly, propping himself up on his elbows. “You are always so sad, though. You smile much more when you are high.”

That made Theo chuckle slightly. “Yeah, well, I think drugs make everyone smile.”

Boris laughed too. “I suppose, but you definitely need some more smiling in your life.”

“I smile plenty, thanks very much,” he replied, nudging Boris with his elbow.

“Oh no, not enough for me! If it were up to me, you would smile all the time,” Boris grinned. “And laugh, too. You laugh so much harder at my jokes when you are high, and it is a confidence booster, for sure.”

“Well, maybe I only think you’re funny when I’m high, cause that’s when my judgment is impaired,” Theo said cheekily, the ghost of a smile ghosting on his lips, perhaps only further proving the point which Boris had been making.

“Oh, you are going to get it for that, Potter.”

For a moment, Theo was slightly afraid that Boris was going to hit him; not in a malicious way, no, but it was either something cultural or simply to do with the fact that Boris knew pain better than affection, but he could play rough without even realizing how rough he was being, and Theo had taken plenty of punches that were just a little harder than they needed to be.

But no, instead, after quickly depositing his cigarette in the ashtray beside the bed, Boris clambered his skinny body atop Theo’s back and began to tickle his ribs, a cheerful battle cry of some Russian word which Theo did not understand leaving his lips, just as laughter began to spill from Theo’s own.

Theo hadn’t been tickled since...Well, since everything had happened, and even then, his mother was affectionate but never overly so, opting to prod him softly then to make him howl with laughter, which was clearly what Boris intended to do.

“Hey! Cut it out, you fucker!” he giggled, wriggling around beneath Boris desperately, and thankful for his heavy knitted sweater that provided a barrier between his skin and devilish fingers.

“Never!” came the reply, before hands wormed their way under his arms and scribbled with vigor, making Theo laugh harder than he remembered laughing in a very long time, and then, the sensation had stopped, because he was laying on top of Boris, on the floor.

He had reacted so violently, he’d managed to roll them both off of the bed, and Boris was giggling, his head tipped back and his curls against the carpet looked like swirls of black ink on parchment paper, and Theo wasn’t sure if he was still just high or if Boris was truly as beautiful as he looked in that moment.

But there was no time to have an existential crisis about being in love with his best friend; it was time for a little revenge.

This wasn’t a very common occurrence, despite how close the two were. Their playfighting usually came in the form of wrestling or chasing one another around, or, they didn’t really bother to playfight at all. It was more common for them to just lay around together, watching movies or just talking. However, there had been a few sneaky pokes to sides that informed them each of the other’s sensitivity, and it was finally an excuse for the information being used.

Theo scrambled into a sitting position and straddled Boris’ hips, his fingers poking and prodding at his stomach, and a spluttering, high-pitched laugh spilled into the room, a laugh much sillier and carefree than he had ever heard the other boy make, and Theo grinned.

“Maybe you need to laugh more too, Boris. I’ve never heard you sound so giddy before,” he teased, sticking a hand up his t-shirt to dance across his sides, and Boris kicked his legs, his knees hitting into Theo’s back, but not enough to cause him any pain, and therefore, he continued.

“Potter, please!”

“Please what?” he asked innocently.

“Stop!”

“Stop what?”   
Boris opened his mouth to reply, but Theo picked that moment to switch to digging into his ribs, making him let out a shriek of laughter before answering. “Tickling me!” he managed to choke out.

“You want me to stop tickling you?”

“Yes!”

“Oh, alright, why didn’t you just say so?”

Grinning smugly, Theo backed off, and he felt much soberer than he had before, but also somehow infinitely higher at the same time. High on adrenaline, probably, or maybe something entirely different than being high, disconnected from reality. He felt awake, and alive.

Boris sat up, clutching his sides dramatically, like a wounded man, his hair wild and his cheeks burning, and reached out to shove Theo in the chest, but he was smiling when he did it.

And Theo smiled too.

Maybe it wasn’t the drugs that made him smile. Maybe it was just Boris, although the drugs were an added bonus.

The two of them fell asleep in Theo’s bed, cuddled close together, and for once, they both felt pretty fucking happy.


End file.
